Ravenna rapped on his door, her rhythm sharp and insistent, as though she could knock sense into him. Inside, Ryo lay sprawled on his bed, shrouded in silence, a blanket cocooning him like a forgotten relic. "Do the suns always rise this early?" he groaned, muffled and disgruntled. "It hardly seems fair." A heavy sigh escaped him, drifting through the air like a lament.
"Sir, you cannot keep sleeping in, especially after promising to rise early," Ravenna's voice cut through the morning haze, even as her face remained hidden behind her mask, her expression resolute, starting to slip a little with exasperation.
"Alright, alright! I understand," he shot back, throwing the covers aside with dramatic flair. "I won't do it again."
"Yet you said that yesterday, sir." Her tone was flat, but there was an undeniable precision in her words that sliced through his half-hearted defenses. Ryo frowned, unable to muster a retort beyond an annoyed click of his tongue.
Resigning himself to the inevitable, he rolled out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom to wash away the remnants of sleep. To his surprise, he found Ravenna had set up breakfast in his room, the aroma reaching him before he even laid eyes on the arrangement. "Wait, what? We're eating here?" He blinked, his surprise coloring his voice.
"It was your suggestion to do so next time, sir," she replied, placing the tray on a finely crafted stool beside the bed with deft hands. "And you seem to forget things frequently lately."
True enough, but it's because I often speak without thinking, and you keep acting on them. I really need to be more careful about my word choice.
"Hey, what about you? I told you—"
"Don't worry," she interrupted smoothly, "I have plans to eat on my own after you leave for your morning exercise with the lady." Her gaze never wavered; it felt as if she were peering directly into his thoughts.
At least she's starting to consider her own needs now, he mused, aware that this self-awareness was a new development. There had been a time when his maid had seemed almost mechanical, as if she were merely an echo of someone unfulfilled. But now? Observing her alongside the other maids, he found no trace of hollowness.
...
It's been a month since everything changed. Mei devised a solid plan to prepare us for the next chapter. While others struggle to grasp the basics, we're working diligently, driven by the knowledge of how little we truly understand about the mirror realm. I've even struck up an acquaintance with Kaito. He's certainly a unique character, and I had expected some familiarity from our previous encounter. However, I soon learned that not only would he not accompany us into the labyrinth, but he also held rank above me, a primrose, signifying much more experience.
In terms of our backgrounds, we barely fell short of violet rank, making him a potentially valuable source of information. Still, I find him insufferable. He's not a bad person, and perhaps he's too good, at least on the surface. The moment he senses my presence, he seems compelled to engage, chatting incessantly. It's bothersome, but I suppose I'll tolerate him for my own sake. Forming an alliance with a fellow lily like myself is another challenge entirely; after a month, I have made little progress beyond Kaito's constant chatter.
Mornings are dictated by Mei's insistence on early workouts, followed by a review of our knowledge for the day. We often skip training to focus on studying, then spend evenings refining our kardiamagia, applying techniques taught by the Aridians. The training hall and magical simulations become our battlegrounds, where we're gradually accustomed to our abilities.
As the general curriculum begins to align with what both Ryo and Mei already know, they'll be able to engage more fully in the standard training program. Occasionally, Their fellow lilies observe us, captivated by our efforts, which sometimes makes him feel like he's performing in a circus, forcing him to push past the embarrassment. Kaito occasionally offered pointers, while Mei seemed to have garnered a following among the violets, who cheer her on as she trains, visibly flushed but resolute.
Despite their progress, they remain at a standstill in forming genuine connections with their fellow lilies, leaving them with only four months to bridge this gap. This inability to accomplish what seems so simple weighed heavily on them.
†
"Today we're finally joining the others for training," Ryo said, trying to sound steady but feeling an edge of anxiety creep in. "It's a bit awkward since we've been dodging classes lately, but at least the instructors know why. They won't question us, right?" He shot a glance at Mei, who walked beside him as they made their way to the training grounds.
"Relax, we'll be fine," Mei replied, adjusting her gear with a determined look. "Besides, it's not like we haven't practiced on our own."
As they stepped onto the open field, Ryo noticed that the usual instructors, Mr. Gareth and Miss Müller, were absent. Instead, two new figures stood at the front: a tall man with a commanding presence and a woman whose sharp eyes scanned the group intently.
"Listen up!" the man boomed, and the chatter among the trainees dimmed. "This month, we're diving deeper into combat training. Before we tackle Kardia-Beast preparation, you'll learn how to face humanoid opponents effectively."
Ryo and Mei exchanged curious glances as attention shifted toward the instructors. With each demonstration, the duo taught them the essentials of martial arts. They focused on the right postures, correcting the Lilies' mistakes with precision and authority.
Ryo watched in disbelief as even he and Mei struggled to keep up with the pace. The basics, once familiar, felt daunting under their watch. The drills seemed endless, with each correction pushing them closer to the true mastery of the art.
"Who are these two?" Ryo thought, a mix of curiosity and admiration flooding his mind. Training was tough, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this could be the push he and Mei desperately needed.
...
The sun hung low in the sky, casting sharp shadows over the training grounds as Mei and Ryo arrived, their hearts pounding with anticipation. Each day had melted into the next, the monotony of routine becoming a strange comfort. Today, however, they faced an unfamiliar challenge, their instructors, Mr. Xiang Chen and Mrs. Élise De Montclair, stood before them like imposing sentinels.
Mr. Chen, with his steely gaze, broke the silence. "Remember, every battle begins in the mind. It's your thoughts and choices that shape the battlefield. Strength alone will not carry you through." His voice was deep, resonating with authority as he continued, "Visualize your opponent's moves before they even make them. Anticipate. Adapt. That's your first step."
Mrs. De Montclair, graceful yet fierce, nodded in agreement. "Exactly. You must synchronize your mind and body. Each movement should flow like water, fluid and instinctual. Start with the basics." She stepped forward, demonstrating a precise series of movements that combined agility with elegance, a dance that opened the doorway to combat. "Watch closely. This is how to strike decisively while evading an attack."
As the days unfolded, Mei and Ryo immersed themselves in relentless training, each session marked by sweat and determination. They watched as Mr. Chen showcased a technique that involved flowing sidesteps and sudden pivots, urging them to mirror him. "Keep your balance," he instructed, "as if your feet are rooted to the ground while your mind is free, ready to strike or evade."
"Now, the mind must be sharp," Élise added, her voice ringing out with clarity. "In battle, confusion is your enemy. Focus. Picture the rhythm of your breath and the cadence of your movements." She demonstrated a series of defensive stances, spinning on her heel, then glaring at them to emphasize seriousness. "You can't falter. Find the center of your balance, and from there, respond."
Mei and Ryo practiced tirelessly, the world around them fading as they drilled the techniques. Days passed in a blur of sweat-slicked skin and aching muscles, interspersed with harsh commands and subtle corrections. They absorbed footwork patterns that felt almost like weaving a tapestry, each step intricately connected yet distinctly purposeful.
"Breathe," Mr. Chen urged one afternoon, his tone heavy with intensity. "Connect with your ground. See every angle, every potential outcome. You must be adaptable like the wind; avoid rigidity."
As the training montages played in their minds, the instructors continued to meld skill with strategy, creating a symphony of movement and thought. Mei found herself envisioning the spacing between opponents, while Ryo concentrated on perfecting a seamless blend of offense and defense, inspired by their mentors.
...
After three weeks of intense martial arts training, the atmosphere shifted dramatically as they transitioned to weaponry training. The anticipation was unnerving. As the instructors unveiled enormous, heavy-duty containers, the focus of the group wasn't solely on the weapons within but on the effortlessly graceful way the maids lifted the massive boxes.
"How can they do that? They can't be human," Ryo thought. Inside those containers lay an intriguing assortment of weapons, crafted to perfection. Ryo couldn't shake the feeling that these weapons were more than mere metal; they seemed sturdier than anything he had seen before, and perhaps even infused with a sense of magic, though it was invisible to the naked eye. This world was fast becoming a realm that felt more like a dark fantasy video game than reality.
"Now, listen up! You won't be training with these weapons just yet; we need to ensure your safety first," Mr. Chen announced, his voice cutting through the hum of excitement in the air. "These weapons were meant for you a month before the Labyrinth expedition, but given the timeline, we've had to adjust a few things. They were crafted by our Alchemist friends from the Isle nearby, and, luckily for you, one of those talented Alchemists is here today. He will create wooden replicas of the weapons you choose, tailored to your comfort."
The mention of the Alchemist sparked an immediate wave of enthusiasm. One by one, the students approached the gleaming assortment of weapons, gravitating toward those that called out to them. Ryo's eyes widened as he beheld a magnificent Great katana, its blade reflecting the light with an ethereal shimmer. Beside him, Mei surprised him by selecting a pair of curved twin blades that could seamlessly merge into a single weapon, an elegant dual-wielding masterpiece.
As they each settled on their choices, a figure stepped forward from the crowd. He was of average height, appearing to be in his thirties. His presence was understated, yet carried a captivating intensity. His black, curly hair framed his face in a casual yet deliberate way, and a low-cut beard added to his serious demeanor. His striking blue eyes seemed to hold an entire world of knowledge behind them, while his attire spoke to a well-traveled life, ripe with adventure, a deep-blue and intricately designed cape with a sigil, draping elegantly over rugged yet stylish clothing, he was an Hydrangea rank.
"Mr. Lorian Valeheart, if you will," Mrs. De Montclair gestured towards the Alchemist. Lorian surveyed the crowd of about seventy eager learners, his gaze flitting over each one with a quick yet focused intensity. Then, as if entering a trance, he closed his eyes, and in that moment, some thing unfolded.
In a heartbeat, wooden replicas of the chosen weapons materialized beside each student, a testament to Lorian's remarkable skill and concentration. Ryo felt a rush of awe wash over him, the effortless way Lorian had memorized their selections and conjured the replicas left him speechless. their eyes met briefly, Ryo sensed something rather cold from him and the man walked away, leaving the training grounds as he was escorted by a maid.
Mei was the first to reach for her newly formed weapon, holding the wooden replica in her hands. Her eyes sparkled as she examined the craftsmanship, tracing the curves of the blades and feeling their weight. "This is incredible" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with Awe. "It's like it was made just for me!"
Ryo nodded in agreement, his heart racing as he too picked up the replica of his katana. The weight felt perfect, balanced and ready for action.
...
After that, the training sessions intensified, transforming the once-quiet training ground of the Isle into a vibrant arena of sweat, grit, and determination. The air buzzed with the sounds of clashing wood and focused grunts as the students gathered in two groups, each under the watchful eyes of their respective instructors.
Mrs. De Montclair stood like a fierce sentinel amidst her pupils, her long, dual whips coiled around her arms like serpentine extensions of her will. "Listen closely, everyone!" she called, her voice sharp yet encouraging. "Mastery of your weapon starts with understanding its dance. Those two-handed and technically versatile weapons require not just strength, but finesse. Today, we'll focus on agility and strategy."
Mei gripped her curved twinblade, feeling the familiar weight balance in her hands. She noticed several others in her group: a tall, lanky boy with a long spear and a girl with a whirling whip. The atmosphere crackled with unnerving anticipation as they waited for Mrs. De Montclair's instruction.
"Pair up!" she commanded. "Now, I want you to practice your footwork. Circling, dodging think of engaging in a dance with your opponent." She demonstrated by swiftly weaving between Dummy foes, her whips slicing through the air with practiced grace. "Balance is your ally. If you can't maintain it, the outcome is inevitable."
The Lilies watched, wide-eyed, as she effortlessly spun around, the whips crackling like thunder. "Now, let's see you try," she called, stepping back to allow them space.
As the students began to move, Mei concentrated on her footing, remembering Mrs. De Montclair's words. She practiced her strikes, envisioning opponents as shadows, dancing dangerously close, just out of reach. With each movement, she felt the rhythm of the training session course through her, adrenaline mixing with determination.
Across the Field, Mr. Chen ran his own session with an entirely different approach. with a booming laugh, he commanded attention effortlessly. "All right, my stalwart warriors!" he bellowed, holding his colossal wooden sword aloft like a trophy. "Today, we forge strength!"
Around him, a cluster of students wielded greatswords, long swords, and hulking axes, their faces etched with focus and ambition. "Your weapons are an extension of yourself! They crave your strength and adaptability! Remember, it's not just about swinging wildly; you must adapt your strikes to defend against any threat!" He moved through his students, his voice booming like a war drum, offering encouragement and corrections.
"I want you to imagine an opponent before you, a ferocious beast or a rival knight! Use the momentum of your body to fuel your strikes. You're not simply swinging wood; you are striking with intent!"
Ryo, clutching a great katana that felt warm against his palms, focused on Mr. Chen's pacing instructions. He watched as Mr. Chen demonstrated a fluid combination of powerful sweeps and sharp thrusts before turning his attention back to the students. "Team up and engage!" he shouted, watching with pride as the students paired off and began to engage in mock battles.
"Remember!" Mr. Chen added, "That's half your battle, connect with your partner, anticipate their moves, and don't forget to counter!" The wooden weapons crashed against one another as they practiced, laughter mingling with grunts and groans, the fun of the strenuous session adding to an atmosphere of camaraderie.
...
After two weeks on the Isle, the Lilies had grown more familiar with their weapons. Now, two and a half months into their training, most had adapted and were becoming increasingly compliant. Today, Sir Helianthus had come to oversee their sparring session alongside the instructors. It was supposed to be a monthly tradition to hold matches to identify the most promising Lilies among their group. Ryo, however, was not a fan of such competitions. Yet, he had no say in the matter.
They arrived at an arena-like stage situated in the open field, where every Lily, regardless of age, would spar against each other in predetermined pairs. Ryo's heart thudded as he realized it was his turn. He wasn't overly confident, but he felt a steady resolve; he had given his all during training, something he had often shied away from back home. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and one he wasn't entirely eager to embrace. He would see just how far his efforts could take him.
His opponent caught his attention, a tall, brown-haired Japanese guy who radiated a quiet confidence. He was good-looking, fitted, and had an imposing presence that made Ryo uneasy. They hadn't even stepped into the arena yet, but he could sense an intimidating aura from the boy. Ryo noted that while enthusiasm was commendable, it wouldn't automatically translate to strength, especially after just two months of training.
"Get in the arena, you two! Stop staring at each other like lovebirds!" called out Mrs. De Montclair, her voice laced with amusement. Laughter erupted among the spectators, with Mei's mocking chuckle ringing out louder than the rest. Ryo's stoic expression faltered and morphed into one of irritation.
As they stepped into the ring, Sir Helianthus approached them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. His presence was powerful, yet he wore a gentle expression that softened his demeanor. "Take it easy, boys," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "Just do your best."
At that, Ryo took a deep breath, ready to face whatever was to come.
The battle began.
The battlefield lay before them, steeped in an uneasy stillness, as though time itself held its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash.
Ryo gripped his katana, its edge gleaming menacingly in the dim light. Opposite him stood a boy, his long sword an extension of his very will, both as similar as they were starkly different. In this juxtaposition, a perfect match had been formed.
They exchanged a solemn bow, a fleeting moment of respect before the storm. Ryo settled into the comfort of a Shin no Seigan stance, body coiled like a spring, while the boy held his weapon slightly aloft, a stance brimming with potential energy. The air was thick with anticipation, every heartbeat echoing like a distant drum.
With the resounding toll of a bell, Mr. Chen signaled the beginning, shattering the silence.
Ryo lunged, the blade slicing through the air with a whisper of intent. The boy met his advance with a deft parry and feinted a sweeping attack. Ryo's instincts kicked in; he leaped back, narrowly avoiding the boy's calculated strike. But the boy pressed on, finding an opening, a kick, a strike. Ryo met him with a hilt strike of his own, their movements flowing in a dance of reflex and strategy.
In the blink of an eye, the boy sidestepped with a fluid grace, parrying Ryo's repeated assaults before countering. Ryo evaded just by a hair's breadth, his counterattack finding purchase with a swift, calculated strike. But the boy was not so easily bested; with an agile Passata Sotto, he ducked under Ryo's blade.
As they created some distance, the air pulsing with tension, the boy launched forward. Ryo caught a fleeting glimpse of an opening in his opponent's defensive wall, the gut area. "This is it," he thought, adrenaline surging through him. He dodged the thrust, preparing to deliver what he believed would be the final blow.
Yet, the boy's expression held an unshakeable calm, flipping the tide of the fight in an instant. With a surge of unexpected strength, he lunged, disarming Ryo in one swift motion, then kicked him sideways. "What the—?" Ryo's thoughts spun as instinct took over. Without hesitation, he sidestepped, bringing his leg down to redirect the boy's advancing sword, using the fleeting momentum to send it tumbling from the boy's grasp.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd, captivated by the ballet of skill and instinct as both combatants found themselves unarmed, their eyes locked in mutual respect and surprise.
But just as they rushed toward each other, a commanding voice pierced the tension.
"That's enough, it's over!" Sir Helianthus declared, halting the duel. Mei's gaze fell, a mix of disappointment and relief washing over the onlookers. The boy's heavy breaths resonated in the now silent space as he held his ground, a wooden katana pressed against Ryo's throat, halting inches from flesh.
"Huh, I... I lost?" Ryo stammered, the weight of reality crashing down around him.